* * * *

Mrs. Marvin listened to all that Miss Fenler had to say about the feast,
the two who had planned it, and the other two who beyond a doubt had
been invited guests.

"And _I_ should send them home, and at the same time mail a tart letter
to their parents telling them that their room was better than their
company."

Mrs. Marvin looked up at the thin, harsh face of her assistant.

"Mercy is sometimes as valuable in a case like this, as extreme
severity," she said.

"They have broken a well-known rule here, and must be dealt with
accordingly. They must be made clearly to understand that a repetition
would not be overlooked."

"I am only an assistant," Miss Fenler said, "but I have my opinions,
and I can't help thinking that you are too gentle with them."

"They have been mischievous, surely, but had their mischief been such as
would harm, or annoy their classmates, I should have been more severe.

"You may send them to me. I will see them before the school opens for
the morning session."

"There is another pupil that I must speak of, and that is the Mayo girl.
It has been her habit to keep apart from the other girls. She seems to
prefer to spend much of her leisure time not only indoors, but in her
room.

"Lina Danford, the little girl whose room is next hers told me that Ida
Mayo had been crying ever since daybreak. Lina thought that she must be
ill, and she knocked at the door, but while for a moment the crying
ceased, there was no answer, even when the knock was several times
repeated."

"Have you tried to rouse her?" Mrs. Marvin said, her fine face showing
genuine alarm.

"I knocked three times, but received no reply, and the door is locked."

"I will go to her," Mrs. Marvin said. "You may open school for me. Say
nothing to the other girls. I will talk with them at the noon recess."

Mrs. Marvin hurried up the stairway, and along the upper hall to the
corner room. She paused before tapping. If Ida Mayo had been crying, she
was not crying now.

She knocked and waited. Knocked again, and again she waited.

"Ida, you must open your door for me. This is Mrs. Marvin."

The morning session had opened, and fresh young voices could be plainly
heard. They were singing Ida's favorite, an old song, "All hail,
pleasant morning."

Mrs. Marvin heard a faint sob.

"Ida, I am your friend. Let me in, and tell me what troubles you." No
response.

"Open the door quickly, or I shall